A Trace of Mercy
by Racingmenace
Summary: Mercy has been waiting for a chance with her crush, the former fighter pilot whose codename was Tracer, for ages. When said person ends up in her infirmary, with it just being the two of them, Mercy makes her move. However, She didn't do her research on a few essentials... (One very rusty shot)


Normally, the young Tracer would be grinning like the damn Cheshire Cat after stretching her legs in a classic anti-terrorist operation like the one she had just completed. However, she had a near-fatal slip up that nearly cost her her chronal accelerator _and_ her life. She had recklessly overused her accelerator through many rapid blinks instead of hitting cover and letting it cool down. She was caught in the middle of some open ground when it gave up on her temporarily. This normally wouldn't have been a problem if the Talon agents weren't actively shooting at her too.

Tracer cringed as her heavily bruised shoulder sent horrible twinges and aches through her body. It hurt like hell, so Tracer decided to take a visit to Overwatch's resident medical professional: Dr. Angela Ziegler, better known as Mercy. Since her accelerator wasn't able to keep up at the moment, Tracer opted not to race to the infirmary as usual; instead choosing to clutch and attempt to massage her damaged shoulder while keeping at a modest walking pace.

Mercy had only just finished putting away her Valkyrie suit when she noticed that Tracer entered her domain. "Ah, Miss Oxton." She greeted, moving herself over to her, "How are you? Is there anything I can help with?"

"Hiya, love, I just came to ask you for a bit of help with my shoulder – if you're not busy, of course." Tracer's unnatural meekness was quite adorable, and almost made the doctor's cheeks flush.

"Oh no, I'm not busy at all." She motioned toward a nearby bed, "Please, settle down there and tell me what is wrong." And so Tracer did.

"I took a nasty hit in the left shoulder today while on a mission today. If it weren't for that new shielding system Winston prototyped for me, I'd be brown bread I bet!"

"I see," Mercy frowned as she held a hand to her chin as she watched Tracer's weary gaze, "What kind of weapon was it?"

"A shotgun, real biggun. Sent me flying, I honestly thought I was dead by the time I hit the ground." Tracer said before shuddering shortly, "Scared the daylights out of me." Mercy walked up to her, breaking her renewed tensions and emotions by placing calm hands on her head and moving them around to other areas where potential head trauma could be located. "I am checking for head injuries first," Mercy stated, trying her best to be as non-intrusive and soothing as possible, "Please tell me if you feel any pain or dizziness."

After about half a minute, Mercy was satisfied with the state of Tracer's head. She decided to move onto the bed that Tracer had sat on, in order to get better access to the shoulder that was causing her patient pain. "Right, I'm going to need to have a look at your shoulder, to assess the damage." Mercy said, causing the other woman's face to be etched with worry.

"That means I'll have to take the harness off..." Tracer was certainly not filled with confidence, given by the look on her face. Mercy put a comforting hand on her good shoulder. "Do not worry, if you or I notice anything out of order, your chronal accelerator will be back on before you know it, okay?" Mercy put on her best comforting smile, hoping that Tracer wouldn't worry too much.

Tracer gulped, "Okay," she agreed with much hesitation. Slowly, the straps and buckles that held the device tightly onto Tracer's body came apart. Now was the time to actually take it off.

"Das machst du toll, now all you have to do is take it off." Encouraged Mercy as she aided in taking off the device. Finally, the chest and back piece of the accelerator rested on the doctor's lap. "Very good!" She cheered, making Tracer look at her and smile half-heartedly.

"Please, take off your jacket." Mercy commanded, allowing Tracer to go at a comfortable pace for herself. Mercy then noted how much the younger woman's hands were trembling; she must have felt incredibly vulnerable, and it made Mercy want to squeeze all the fears and worries out of her in a death-hug – however, she knew that acts affection would not help her current condition, and therefore needed to control herself… at least for now.

"Right, now I need your shoulder out of that jumpsuit." Tracer shifted uncomfortably at that. "What is the matter? You easily took off your jacket, what's stopping you with your jumpsuit?" Tracer sighed heavily, averting her eyes, as if in shame.

"I'm not… not wearing anything underneath it." She muttered to her doctor, cheeks burning in embarrassment.

"O-oh..." Mercy certainly had red cheeks now, she was sure of it. Tracer crossed her arms and huffed.

"It gets hot, okay?! Don't look at me like that!" She pouted. Mercy held her hands up, in an attempt at placating the younger woman.

"I wasn't judging you." She said, "It doesn't matter to me, I just want to see your shoulder." _Though, I certainly wouldn't mind seeing more..._

"Right, right." Tracer eventually undid enough of the jumpsuit to slip her arm out while easily hiding her exposure. "Happy?"

"Happy," Mercy took to her job, and examined the shoulder closely, "Well, there's definitely bruising, but as far as I can tell there is nothing seriously wrong. There's not much I can do about the swelling, but for the pain I can get you some pain medication." She looked into the other woman's eyes. Tracer returned the look with tiredness. "You're fine." Mercy smiled as she handed back the jacket and the chronal accelerator to Tracer. "I'm sure you know how to deal with bruisings yourself, so I won't bother lecturing you with that. You're free to go, but no missions for the next week."

Tracer took her jacket, but didn't put it on, instead opting to zip up her jumpsuit and put on her device lightly over it. "Cheers, love." Tracer didn't make to get up to leave, however. "I'm going to stay here for a bit, if that's alright with you. I just need to calm down for a bit."

"Take as much time as you need, meine Süße." Mercy almost bit her tongue when she finished the sentence, hoping Tracer either didn't know what she said, or didn't notice. "I understand that the accelerator must cause you distress in your daily life. I'm here if you wish to talk." Tracer nodded, and replied with a genuine smile.

"Thanks." She said, before looking up to Mercy, "I haven't actually talked to you much, but you seem to be really nice."

"Thanks," Mercy replied, inching in closer, "I think you're quite nice, too."

"Right, love." Tracer looked down to her hand, watching it as she flexed her fingers, "I'm not usually like this… a lot more rowdy, actually." She mused, "I guess getting shot tends to worsen your mood a bit, eh?" Mercy bit her bottom lip. If she continued with this, there wouldn't be a way back.

"How about I brighten it up again, hm?" There was no going back now, Tracer had looked back up at her, prime and ready for the taking.

"What do you-" Tracer was caught off guard by Mercy's lips against her own. She was, to say at the very least, incredibly surprised. The kiss was light and warm, but unwelcome to Tracer, so she pulled away with a yelping "Ah!"

"What the bloody hell was that?!" Yelled Tracer as she pushed herself away from the doctor. Mercy had adopted a wide-eyed, pained cringe. She appeared to be regretting her decision already, and had now brought up a hand to her mouth to cover it. "I'm sorry, I just…" She looked away from Tracer, tears welling in her eyes. "I didn't know this would happen!" Mercy had a dejected look about her.

"Well, you could've told me something about this!" Tracer exclaimed, standing up. "We could have sorted this out, when it started."

"I know, I know. I was hoping with all my heart that this feeling wouldn't be unrequited..." Mercy shook as she attempted to hug herself, unable to cope with the look Tracer was giving her.

"I'm sorry, love, but I don't feel the same about you." Tracer had gained enough courage to sit back down, next to the tearful medic. "My jet doesn't fly that way, miss Ziegler." Tracer said, not really knowing what to do.

"I.. whatever you do, please don't report me to the higher-ups. Please, don't." Mercy sounded broken, her voice cracking. She gasped when Tracer patted her back softly.

"I won't, don't worry." Tracer brought her doctor's head up with her other hand to make eye contact, "I don't hate you for what or who you're into. You're still a good friend and a damn good doctor, from what I've heard. Don't forget that."

"I won't." She wiped away her tears and sighed, "I won't."

"Good." Tracer gave her a more confident, snarky looking smirk, "Now don't surprise me like that again, or you won't hear the end of it!"

Mercy gave her a chuckle, while rubbing her eyes a tad more. "Okay, Lena. Thanks for being so understanding." Mercy smiled at her, happier now that her feelings were off her chest. She got up from the bed and straightened her slightly creased coat. Tracer got up too, picking up her jacket in her right hand.

"Hey, doctor." Tracer motioned with a thumb toward the infirmary door. "The mess is open, want to have lunch? Today's special's my favourite!"

"Yes, please." Mercy's stomach rumbled, making the younger woman giggle.

"Let's go!" Tracer waved as she took off, mindful of her arm and the technology attached to her chest. Mercy quickly dashed off too, wanting to keep up with her. She yelled, "Wait for me!"


End file.
